


Gamer Girl

by goldenrod



Category: Global Frequency
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/F, Femslash, Humor, Masturbation, Phone Sex (sort of), Porn Battle, Vibrator, Voyeurism (Again Sort Of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenrod/pseuds/goldenrod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life as Global Frequency's network operator can get boring. Fortunately, Aleph has a game to pass the time, and she's gotten very good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gamer Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XIII (prompts: Aleph/Any, talk, wavelength, break).
> 
> Feedback and constructive criticism welcome; enjoy!

  
It’s kind of a game for Aleph; see how many calls she can handle and how many people she can talk to before anyone figures out she’s masturbating. Or before she comes without anyone noticing, of course. The latter happens more often than you’d think.  
  
(Oh, don’t look like that. Imagine you live inside a self-sustaining top-secret communications hub sealed off from the rest of the world by impenetrable firewalls, no one can see you but you can see virtually _everyone_ , and you have access to, among all the other doors that being the network operator for the Global Frequency opens, _all the pornography ever_. The question isn’t _if_ you would masturbate, it’s _why the fuck_ would you ever wear pants, or indeed any kind of clothes, ever again?   
  
Plus, you know, there’s a certain thrill in constantly dealing with the end of the world, even if you’re just the voice on the phone connecting the people who are actually doing everything. Lot of adrenaline. Gotta burn off those hormones somehow, baby, and she's the only operator for the entire Global Frequency; she can't exactly hang up the phone whenever she feels like rubbing one out.)  
  
She’s gotten pretty good at it, too. You would be amazed at how easily you can control your voice so that no one knows you are in the middle of having a particularly good orgasm. It’s all a matter of internalizing and multitasking, really.  
  
“Roland Newman, you are on the Global Frequency.“   
  
 _oh fuck yeah_  
  
“Akaash Patel, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _fuck that’s good_  
  
“Kang-Hyung Kim, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _uhnnn_  
  
“Sandra Davis, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _i amaze_ myself _sometimes_  
  
“Simon Mbutu, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _oh yeah almost there baby almost_ there  
  
And so on until:  
  
“Miranda Zero, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _“Aleph, are you_ masturbating _again?”_  
  
Fuck. Fuck! Always Miranda! Only _ever_ Miranda! How the fuck does she _do_ it? So goddamn close this time, as well.  
  
 _“Well? Are you? ‘Cause gotta say, the silence is_ very _reassuring.”_  
  
“Hang on a sec.”   
  
 _uh uh uh uhhhhhhhhhhh. fuck yeah. give the girl a cigarette._  
  
“Not any more.”  
  
 _“You are a little deviant.”_  
  
“Well, you know, if you came down here and fucked me senseless more often, I wouldn’t have to take extreme measures.”  
  
 _“Excuse me for trying to save the world.”_  
  
“Fuck the world; I got an overactive sex drive needs dealing with here.”  
  
 _“So I have noticed. Now, put the vibrator away, put your pants back on, and bring up everything we’ve got on the chief engineers behind World War II-era Nazi super-weaponry, specifically “Operation: Eternal Strength”, 1942-1945.”_  
  
Aleph’s already opened Voice Command, sending Miranda’s request directly into the system, already pulling up likely responses with an error margin of 0.000000001% (Siri, eat your heart _and_ my pussy right out), and throws Ol’ Reliable into the corner (neon pink, ribbed, just the perfect companion for those long world-saving telephone conversations). But she does _not_ put any pants on. It’s the principle, dammit. “Nazi super-tech? Just what I wanted for Christmas. Where the fuck does all this stuff keep _coming_ from, anyway?”  
  
 _“Yeah, I hear that.”_  
  
Aleph’s typing commands, sorting information at a glance, bringing up everything she can, double-checking the computer’s responses. Hey, human superprocessor, what you gonna do? “Okaaaaaay, this week’s lucky winner is... one Heinrich von Krieg, who apparently got up to some _very_ naughty things on the Eastern Front involving primitive human-machine hybridization techniques. Like, _really_ primitive. Basically literally smooshing the two together and seeing what happened. Apparently wasn’t _just_ a pointless butcher, since the Americans swept him up in the Nazi headhunts that _didn’t_ officially make it into Operation: Paperclip and relocated him to Martha’s Vineyard, where he lives as... Brian Maynard. Seriously?”  
  
 _“Send me all the data. It’s time to pay Mr. Maynard a visit and remind him of the past.”_  
  
“Already on your phone. This is a big one?”  
  
 _“About four on the scale of fucked-up-ness. Nothing I probably can’t handle, but get the relevant channels and operatives open and active just in case. This Nazi shit has a tendency to blow up in ways we don’t expect.”_  
  
“Okay. Be sure to beat Brian von Fucktard to within an inch of his life for me.”  
  
 _“Will do. And Aleph?”_  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
 _“See you tonight_.”  
  
Delivered in _that_ tone. The tone that goes right from Aleph’s ear straight to her clit. The tone that promises wonderful things for her body in the near future, involving hands and lips and maybe even a little strap-on action, if she’s a very good girl. And more besides.  
  
See, the game’s fun by herself, but it gets a billion times better when Miranda joins in.  
  
 _“Zero out.”_  
  
But until then...  
  
“Ziva Borkenau, you are on the Global Frequency.”  
  
 _Round_ two _, baby._


End file.
